To Sup with Serpents


Iona, Nazareth

Unique NPCs:


Title To Sup with Serpents
Scene Synopsis Nazareth and Vegas have their much-awaited talk after Vegas' detainment and treatment of his injuries.
IC Date Feb 27 2194
OOC Date Aug 07 2009
Logger Nazareth

Gadgetech Factory, League City Ruins

So the time has finally come. Nazareth has made sure that Vegas has been well cared for in his stay at the recently reappropriated factory. He's bound, of course, but otherwise unmolested. Late on this night, he has been brought down to the now cleared out cubicle complex of the facility and seated in one of the old, beat up chairs to await the doctor's arrival. An arrival he doesn't have to wait long for, as the doors to the factory floor slide open and the bald butcher is produced thereby.

[GM] Plutonium rolls Vegas - 555's Charisma stat (6) at a difficulty level of Challenging. It fails. (Roll Value: 1)

Vegas leans back in the chair, trying to look relaxed. His nervousness shows despite his efforts, though, and there's a sheen of sweat on his brow. Through his one functional eye, he watches Nazareth as the man slides open the door, a rictus-like half-grin eventually tugging at his features. "What's up, Doc?"

Nazareth is quite clearly coming down off a drunk. Despite this, he seems well composed. He gives the gang leader the warmest possible smile his black heart can muster before moving up to face him directly, "This and that. Thought you wouldn't mind a little conversating?"

Iona has butted in to the 'intimate' conversation, though really, she's standing out in the hallway. She's Johnny on the spot in case anything goes wrong, though with one glance towards Vegas, she relaxes a great deal. Her hands come out of her pockets, and she looks very nearly sympathetic for the wounded man.

"Ain't like I've got a choice, is it?" Vegas asks with a chuckle. It's still obvious he's nervous, but he's not being rude. He is, after all, a man of business, and it's not like he hasn't held a prisoner or two himself. And possibly carved 'em up a bit. "Better than sitting around, anyway."

"Not really," Nazareth responds softly. He moves a hand up to rub his temple gently, relaxing himself as best he can in his stupor, "Anyway, it's like this, Vegas. We kicked your ass fair and square, the robots and the factory are mine. Law of the wastes says I can do pretty much whatever I please with you. But…" he pauses for a moment, opening a vest pocket to retrieve his pack of cigarettes, a few in it still jiggling around as he plucks one out, taking the liberty of putting one on Vegas' lips and another on his own. A decidedly ominous gesture. "But, we're civilized sorts around here, and I got a better way than to just put one in your head and be done with you."

[OOC] Plutonium says, "Naz, roll Speech. I'm gonna make a roll for Vegas, as well, to see how much he picks up."
[GM] Plutonium rolls Vegas - 555's Intelligence stat (5) and succeeds. (Roll Value: 1)
[ROLL] Nazareth rolls his Speech skill (80%) and succeeds. (Roll Value: 41)

As the cigarette is set in his mouth, Vegas arches a brow and glances down at it for a few seconds, then looks back up. "Right. So you figure you can get somethin' out of me, then." He licks his lips, careful not to knock the cigarette away.

Nazareth nods steadily as he lights his cigarette, then stoops to light Vegas' before the loose match is tossed away. "True enough, friend. You've got something I need and I can provide you with something you want. We can be /good/ friends, Vegas." Nazareth squats then to come to Vegas' level, taking a healthy drag of the cigarette, "All I want's to be your friend, man."

Vegas nods once, slowly, taking a slow puff from the cigarette once it's lit. "Thanks." He eyes Nazareth once the shorter man comes level with him, blowing a puff of smoke out of the side of his mouth to avoid the alternative of blowing it into the face of his captor. "Friends is good. What's this about, then, man?"

"Io," Nazareth intones, looking to the side. "Bould you untie our guest. I'm sure he'll be agreeable, and I wouldn't want him to waste that cigarette." In the time it takes Iona to walk over, Nazareth continues, "I need you and whatever men you've got left back in town, out here. I got plans for this place, you can do a lot of shit with a working, powered building. Make a lot of caps, live better than that petty thug-work you've been doing in town."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt. He tries anything funny and I can't promise that he'll live very long though," Iona says warily, eyeing Vegas' crotch area dubiously. She moves into the office and begins to untie the ropes that bind, her fingers working quickly.

[OOC] Plutonium says, "Naz, roll Speech at Hard. Won't necessarily stop you from further options if you fail, but it'll determine the course they take."
[ROLL] Nazareth rolls his Speech skill (80%) at a difficulty level of Hard. He fails. (Roll Value: 36)

Once Vegas is untied, he stretches his arms out almost automatically, then begins rubbing at his wrists. Nazareth's offer is carefully considered before he takes a pull from the cigarette and then removes it with a now-free hand. "We don't do too bad, there, Doc. Not great, y'know, but… it's safe. And setting up a new place out here… that's dangerous shit." He frowns a bit.

"That it is. Brotherhood's in the neighboring areas, probably super mutants too," Nazareth accedes as he stands. The cherry of his cigarette has burned down a bit, and he flicks the cig, sending ashes fluttering to the ground, "But, things pan out? I'm cooking more chems than the wasters in Alvin have ever even heard of. And that's a lot of caps, my friend. But I need security out here to make sure some nosy fucks don't come snooping, because they will." Nazareth puffs on the cigarette a bit, eyeing Vegas intently through the smoke, "Bottom line, you and your boys could help me make this happen. Meaning you'd have been here from the start and stand to gain only less than yours truly."

Iona watches Vegas warily once more before she backs away from him. His wounds are appraised carefully, and she seems to be letting the conversation drift in and out of her field of perception. Mostly, she's staring at Vegas' head.

"Hm… yeah, okay. You got a point," Vegas admits, taking another long drag off of the cigarette. "Or three. If my guys knew you could make it worth their while, they might be in. Would take some talkin', maybe some of these chems you're talkin' up, but."

"Then we'll talk to them," Nazareth adds, leaning in just a bit, "And you'll make sure to mention the firepower that blew their former comrades from here to Amarillo.." Another puff on the cigarette.

Iona quirks a brow between the two men as she tunes into the conversation a little more attentively now. A deep breath is taken before she lets out a brief laugh. "I'd say that the good doctor here is pretty damned good at talkin', and we have the power of persuasion on our side." She points to herself in the affirmative. Iona still /stares/ at Vegas' head, eyes wide.

[GM] Plutonium rolls Vegas - 555's Intelligence stat (5) at a difficulty level of Challenging. It fails. (Roll Value: 4)
[GM] Plutonium rolls Vegas - 555's Perception stat (6) and succeeds. (Roll Value: 6)

"Talkin' won't hurt, I suppose," Vegas agrees, leaning back a little and appearing to relax now that it's clear he's probably not in any immediate life-threatening danger. When he notices Iona staring at him, he glances over at her and smirks. "If I stared at your tits as hard as you were starin' at my head, I might make you pregnant," He drawls flatly, then coughs a few times, clearly having not completely recovered.

"Good, we'll leave in the morning," Nazareth says, straightening. "And I'm sure I can count on your back up when we go in to talk to them, should make things go smoother." He hesitates for a moment, "And I promise not to mention too much about how this all went down, for reputation's sake and whatnot."

Iona smiles at Vegas, winking at him. "Aw, that's sweet. Just a professional interest." She sticks her hands in her pockets and starts to head out of the office. "I'm gonna go scrounge for some supplies. You two play nice now."

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